t of his
ill-gotten wealth.

Lablache turned his lashless eyes in the direction of the window. It was
a square aperture of about two feet in extent.

"We are not likely to be interrupted," he said wheezily, "but it never
does to chance anything. Shall we cover the window? A light in this room
is unusual--"

"Yes, let us cover it." "Poker" John chafed at the delay. "No one is
likely to come this way, though."

Lablache looked about for something which would answer his purpose.
There was nothing handy. He drew out his great bandanna and tried it. It
exactly covered the window. So he secured it. It would serve to darken
the light to any one who might chance to be within sight of the shed. He
returned to his seat. He bulged over it as he sat down, and its legs
creaked ominously.

"I have brought three packs of cards," he said, laying them upon the
table.

"So have I."

"Poker" John looked directly into the other's bilious eyes.

"Ah--then we have six packs."

"Yes--six."

"Whose shall we--" Lablache began.

"We'll cut for it. Ace low. Low wins."

The money-lender smiled at the rancher's eagerness. The two men cut in
silence. Lablache cut a "three"; "Poker" John, a "queen."

"We will use your cards, John." The money-lender's face expressed an
unctuous benignity.

The rancher was surprised, and his tell-tale cheek twitched
uncomfortably.

"For deal," said Lablache, stripping one of John's packs and passing it
to his companion. The rancher shuffled and cut--Lablache cut. The deal
went to the latter.

"We want something to score on," the money-lender said. "My memorandum
pad--"

"We'll have nothing on the table, please." John had been warned.

Lablache shrugged and smiled. He seemed to imply that the precaution was
unnecessary. "Poker" John was in desperate earnest.

"A piece of chalk--on the wall." The rancher produced the chalk and set
it on the floor close by the wall and returned to his seat.

Lablache shuffled clumsily. His fingers seemed too gross to handle
cards. And yet he could shuffle well, and his fingers were, in reality,
most sensitive. John Allandale looked on eagerly. The money-lender,
contrary to his custom, dealt swiftly--so swiftly that the bleared eyes
of his opponent could not follow his movements.

Both men picked up their cards. The old instincts of poker were not so
pronounced in the rancher as they used to be. Doubtless the game he was
now playing did not need such mask-like